


cat and mouse for a month or two or three

by Anonymous



Category: What We Do in the Shadows (TV)
Genre: Cats, Crack, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:01:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24930457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: "Recently," says Guillermo, adjusting his glasses, "there have been a lot of passive-aggressive posts on Nextdoor about the importance of neutering your cats.  Not all of them are from Colin Robinson."
Comments: 14
Kudos: 70
Collections: Anonymous





	cat and mouse for a month or two or three

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the result of having "Fuckton of Cats" stuck in my head, not being able to get over Nandor turning into a dog in 104, and imprinting on _Carpe Jugulum_. Apologies in advance.

"Well," says Guillermo, looking at the camera as he scratches Sam's ruff. "After the slaughter at Celeste's place, it seems that most of the vampires didn't accept their familiars back after they'd abandoned them for Celeste. Those that survived, anyway." Sam snuggles against Guillermo and purrs. "And then, uh, after the theater there weren't as many vampires around who needed familiars. So Sam is now looking after Nadja and Laszlo, which leaves me more time to watch out for vampire assassins, but, more importantly, Sam helped us figure out a way to hide from those vampire assassins. And for me to be less tempted to kill the vampires I'm trying to protect."

A large black dog appears in the frame. Its pointed ears swivel. It stares at Sam with intent until Sam slinks out of Guillermo's lap, and the dog jumps up in its place.

"Ma--Nandor, that's really not necess--" Guillermo says, but the dog has already plopped down over Guilermo's lap. Guillermo exhales shakily. "All right."

The dog wags his tail and raises his head up to nip Guillermo on the chin, then sticks his head on his paws, and goes to sleep.

"I've tried to tell him that Sam's not a vampire, so it's not contrary to my job description. Not that I'm still his familiar, but-- Anyway, he also doesn't listen to me when I tell him most lapdogs are ten or twenty pounds. He's almost seventy. I know that because I took him to the vet to make sure he was healthy, and he is, apart from the whole separation anxiety thing. It was a real relief, even if he can't turn into a cat like the others."

-

"It's not that it's difficult to turn into a cat," says Laszlo. "One just shouts, 'Cat!'" He disappears in a puff of smoke and reappears as an overweight tabby, then reverts to vampire form. "And there one is. It doesn't have the dignity of being a bat, and of course one can't fly, but there are certain compensations."

"He spends fourteen hours a day licking his own arsehole," Nadja translates.

"Now, now," says Laszlo, "I only spend seven or eight hours on the arse, so as to leave enough time for my testicles."

-

"Recently," says Guillermo, adjusting his glasses, "there have been a lot of passive-aggressive posts on Nextdoor about the importance of neutering your cats. Not all of them are from Colin Robinson."

-

Nadja straightens her skirts. "Well, yes, I would have preferred to be a slinky little black minx of a cat. But, you know, maybe that's too obvious and also a little too witchy.

"I'm a tortoiseshell," she says, in response to a muffled question. "Long-haired. It's fine. Thankfully we have Sam, and he is very good with the grooming, so I do not suffer anything as undignified as the balls of the hair."

The camera jumps to Laszlo, in the fancy room, coughing up a chunk of brown fur.

"Don't tell Guillermo, but it's not all that bad, being a cat. When we are not hunting for humans we are killing mice and small birds. I cannot eat them and Sam prefers fancy feasts, so we leave the bodies as presents for the neighbors. And in Colin Robinson's shoes when he has tried to bore us to death with his cryptocurrency babble."

-

"I'm telling you," says Colin Robinson, "that investing in Bitcoin--"

A blur of dark fur falls on him from a nearby bookcase, claws-first. Colin Robinson screams and staggers out of frame.

-

Guillermo turns back to the cameras. It's dark out, the moon is low in the sky, and they're walking in the park. Nandor's tail is wagging and every so often Guillermo takes a tennis ball out of his pocket and lobs it down the path, and Nandor races to retrieve it.

"Dog people aren't the kind of hunting ground for virgins that you might assume cat people are," Guillermo confesses, as Nandor returns, slobbery tennis ball in his mouth. "Not that cat people are all that virginal. I, uh, once went hunting among them and it turns out it's more of a misanthropy thing than anything else. So, you know, they weren't really big on leaving their apartments to meet a total stranger and get eaten." He coughs. "But when you're with a dog, you can wander around at night, and nobody asks what you're doing, and there are a lot of isolated joggers who don't even let you know when they're coming up behind you on the path and it's kind of easy to push them into the bushes, and, you know." There's blood on the tennis ball. Guillermo throws it again. "One of these days I'm going to call him a good boy and he'll probably turn back into his vampire form while we're in public to yell at me about how it's disrespectful."

-

"The first time I turned into a dog was in 1544," says Nandor. "I had just accidentally eaten my familiar and was feeling very sad about it, so I curled up in an abandoned crypt and when I awoke, poof! I was a dog.

"People like you when you are a dog. Even in those days, people would be like, what a good dog, would you like me to scratch behind your ears?

"Yes, people are much nicer to you, when you are a dog. No one ever says to me, Good vampire, Nandor, would you like a belly rub? Maybe I would like a belly rub. Maybe I would like to be told I am a good vampire, sometimes. I mean, I am a good vampire."

There's some belated, forced, and indistinct agreement from the documentary crew.

"But no one says these things to you when you are in vampire form, only in dog form," says Nandor, sadly. 

"What? No, not really. Mostly for the belly rubs. Only very rarely did I use it to lure humans to their deaths."

-

"I'm just now realizing," Guillermo says, "that Nandor probably wanted that squeaky bone toy back. It's okay I let the werewolves keep it anyway, right? I mean, if he really wanted it, he should have swallowed his pride and said something."

-

A bedraggled tabby drops over the garden wall and shakes off as much water as it can before blurring back into Laszlo.

"Everyone's a critic," he says, stiffly. "Here I am, trying to share eine kleine Nachtmusik with the neighbors, and this wench in 219 Ashley Street dumps a bloody bucket of water on me."

Nadja, dry and elegant, hops down beside him and shifts back too. "Darling," she says, "that wasn't a little night music. You were caterwauling." Then she cracks up at her own joke, slapping her knee and not caring a whit for Laszlo's disgruntlement.

-

"It's taken some getting used to," says Colin Robinson. "If you try to bore cats, they leave the room or fall asleep. If you try to enrage cats, they attack you."

The camera rolls footage of Laszlo, in cat form, wandering into Colin Robinson's room and spraying all over his pillows.

"I've had to go back to some social media trolling," says Colin Robinson. "It's an election year, and that's always good for energy vampires, but there's also this Nextdoor thing that has proven to be extremely fertile feeding grounds, especially when you partake of trolling from both sides."

He's got two computers set out on the library table, and grabs one of them. "There aren't enough homes for all the stray kittens out there," he says as he types, "and I saw a post on Facebook about how the local animal shelter was selling unwanted kittens to cafeterias for mystery meat. People who don't fix their pets are kitten murders." He pauses before pressing post. "I know that sounds over the top, but Nextdoor is full of emotional vampires and if you're too reasonable people will start to suspect something."

He puts that computer down and picks up the other. "I will not insult my cat's proud feline ancestry by forcing it to remain indoors, nor will I threaten its sense of masculinity by removing its genitalia. Besides, it's not like your ankle can get pregnant.

"Of course," he says, looking up from the computer, eyes glowing blue, "sometimes when I claim to be Laszlo's owner, people are so pissed off at me that I don't need to do anything else to feed on them. So, you know. That helps."

Across the room, Nandor is standing to attention while Guillermo combs out his coat. Every so often Nandor wriggles with happiness.

Colin Robinson looks over his shoulder. "Yeah, forget about those guys. Nandor chased a squirrel last week and he's still high off it. Even Guillermo is feeling good. Do you know the last time Guillermo felt good?" He sighs. "I could have been living in so much misery, if not for Sam. I'd resent him for it, but, you know. He's a cat."

-

Sam blinks at the camera, then goes back to washing his paw. 

"Wow," says a voice from behind the camera. "That has to be the most amazing--the most heartfelt--the most incredible story I've ever heard."

"Yeah," says another member of the crew. 

"We're rooting for you, little kitty."

"We all are."

Sam blinks again, bashfully, then stretches, stands, and jumps out of frame.

-

"Incidentally," says Colin Robinson, "there's a parasite that can live in cat feces, and it gets into the brains of cat owners and makes them take care of those cats to the exclusion of everything else. I've always wondered if vampires had something similar going on with their familiars."

Nadja, purring, knocks Colin Robinson's laptop to the ground and saunters off.


End file.
